Static
by faelins
Summary: Percy left his mom a voicemail from that payphone in Alaska. Turns out Sally wasn't the only one to hear it. / or, New York during SoN.


**wHaT? ? PJO **_**fanfic**_**? ? ? ?**

**Yeah. Welcome to the dark side, kiddos.**

**If the timeline for this is completely messed up, oops. If everyone is completely OOC, which they are, oops. If the title and summary are completely uninspiring and you're only here because you accidentally clicked on this, bye bye. **

**This is my first attempt. Keep that in mind.**

**It also used to have a cover but the image uploader is being a huge bum. Bleh.**

**[disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson or anything else you recognize. I also apologize for any typos — if you happen on one please let me know.]**

* * *

When he put down the phone, it took Paul Blofis a few seconds to remember how to breathe.

He'd figured the voicemail was just from another annoying run-of-the-mill company that wanted his money. Seriously, come _on_. A call, at midnight, from an unfamiliar number, in a place as remote as Alaska? There was _no way_ he was getting out of bed to answer _that_. Besides, he would've had to risk waking Sally — she'd become a world-class insomniac since her son, and Paul's stepchild, had gone missing. They'd heard nothing from or about Percy for months, save for Annabeth's frequent visits, which never brought any news. Poor girl. Paul kind of liked her — half a look at her and he could tell she was hurting inside, her expression a thin mask over a swirling vortex of pain and loss and barely-restrained tears; it was the same expression he saw so often on Sally's face nowadays, only Annabeth's housed more frustration.

_Oh, Percy_, Paul had caught himself thinking on numerous occasions, _if only you knew what you do to these women_.

Percy Jackson was the reason Paul wished he'd gotten out of bed and answered the stupid telephone.

Now he stood in the kitchen, next to his cup of lukewarm coffee and half-eaten bagel, with the home phone in his hand. He stared at the thing like it was an alien device. He was hallucinating, he thought, he _had_ to be. Then, his fingers shaking, he hit the rewind button and listened to the voicemail again.

"_Mom._" Percy's voice rang out through the kitchen a second time. Tinny and staticky, but definitely Percy's voice. "_Hey, I'm alive_."

He said that last bit the way he might've said, _Hey, I'm home from school_.

"_Hera put me to sleep for a while, and then she took my memory, and…_" He paused, and Paul could only imagine what Percy was thinking over there. "_Anyway, I'm okay. I'm sorry. I'm on a quest —"_

He halted mid-sentence, which was probably a good decision. Neither Paul nor Sally would want to hear much about the gory details of demigodish quest stuff. "_I'll make it home. I promise. Love you._"

A click, followed by a few seconds of static. And then silence.

Percy's voice had cracked on the last sentence, and Paul's heart did the same. He had sounded so vulnerable, so small, like he was teetering on the brink of tears — the same tone his poor Sally had been cursed with for the past few months. Paul didn't want to think about what the kid must be going through, waking up after months of sleep with no memory and no familiar faces to help him. _God_. Being a hero must suck.

The only thought on Paul's mind was _Sally needs to hear this_.

"Sally?" he called hesitantly. "You need to hear this."

It was a Saturday morning, and Sally was supposed to be catching up on her much-needed sleep; but knowing her, she was probably lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and worrying about her son. Their apartment was small, and ten seconds later she was at his side, her hair a rat's nest and her eyes wide and expecting. She had grown pale and thin since Percy had vanished, her collar bones sharp at the base of her throat and the bags ballooning beneath her eyes growing darker by the day. Her smiles were forced and wan, if they were present at all.

"What?" she said. "What's wrong?" She sounded wide awake. _Catching up on sleep_ — bull.

Paul didn't say anything. Just hit the rewind button on the phone and watched his wife's face.

She watched his.

"_Mom. Hey, I'm alive._"

She had her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were shining.

By the time Percy had told her that he was okay, and that he was coming home, and that he loved her, her cheeks were flushed a bright crimson, and there were tears beading in the corners of her eyes.

She looked happier than Paul had seen her in months. The new brightness in her expression suited her; he remembered again how beautiful she was, even skinny and pale and in her jammies at seven in the morning, and all that pre-coffee. She didn't say a word, but when they locked eyes again, Paul could tell they were both thinking the same thing.

"Annabeth," he said.

"Annabeth," she agreed. "Now."

* * *

They wouldn't have called her cell, if it wasn't important.

Honestly, Annabeth really liked sleeping. She didn't get nearly enough of it these days, what with her juggling high school and monsters and a missing boyfriend. Sometimes she really hated school — her mother would've killed her if she heard that, but Annabeth didn't really care about her mother at the moment. There was already so much homework and monster drama for her to deal with every single day. Plus she was ADHD _and_ dyslexic — and her teachers took no notice of either condition because her grades were decent. _Unfair_.

And sometimes — _sometimes_ — she just hated Percy for vanishing and leaving her so messed up like this. Then she hated herself for having such shameful, selfish thoughts.

And now her dorm mates probably weren't liking her much either, because her stupid cell phone was ringing at seven in the morning on a Saturday. Most of them had been either out parting or doing homework into the wee hours of the morning, and all were half-asleep, scarily cranky, and sporting a massive headache. Annabeth, who also was currently also all of those things, fumbled around on her nightstand for her phone, which was chiming and vibrating like crazy. "Sorry," she told her stirring roommates in a hushed whisper. Then, phone in hand, she jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, where she could talk in peace.

She didn't even bother checking the called ID. There was only one person who would call her at all.

"Sally?" she said into the phone, trying her best to make her voice sound like she hadn't actually been asleep two minutes ago. "Hey. Hey, what's the ma—"

"Percy's alive," Sally said breathlessly on the other end.

Annabeth felt like she'd just been punched. She forgot how to swallow. Her lungs wouldn't take any air. _Percy. Percy, alive_. She tried to say something back, but the words caught in her throat. She knew her jaw was probably half-open in shock, but the muscles in her face seemed to have died.

"What?" she said finally, and her voice sounded alarmingly small.

"He…he left a voicemail last night. He's okay. He's alive. He's —"

"Can I hear it?"

There was the quiet click of a button on the other end — Sally must've been calling on her own cell phone. Annabeth could have sworn that the second between that click and Percy's voice was the longest of her life. And even if it wasn't, it was enough time for her heart to start palpitating, the blood racing and rushing in her ears, so loud that she was certain she wouldn't be able to hear the voicemail at all.

She was wrong. "_Hey, Mom. I'm alive. Hera put me to sleep for a while, and then she took my memory, and…_"

Her heart sank. _Oh, no_. Just as they'd thought, Percy's memory had been wiped the way Jason's had — he would've woken up somewhere in the middle of who-knows-where, his brain a complete blank.

(Okay, well, there wasn't much in Percy's brain for starters. Just some seaweed here and there.)

His memories must have returned enough for him to remember his home phone number, but…he had forgotten everything. _Everything_.

Including Annabeth.

She felt like she was going to cry.

By the end of the message, she wasn't sure whether she should feel relieved or even more worried than she already was. He was alive and okay, but he was also on a quest, so how much longer he would be either of those things was questionable. He was in Alaska, of all places, too. Typical Percy. Of _course_ he would go to one of the most dangerous places on the planet for a demigod.

"Oh," Annabeth said weakly into the phone as the message dissolved into crackling static. She felt dizzy and disoriented, like the world was turning upside down. _He was alive_.

"Yeah," Sally replied quietly. "Are you alright?"

"Sure. Yeah." Annabeth hesitated, but it was only for a second, to let her regain her sense of balance. "I'm going to go to Camp Half-Blood."

"This weekend? But you start your last week of the school year on Monday—"

"This is more important. I'm leaving. Right now."

"But—"

"Can you give me a ride?"

"I—"

"Sally, Percy's in danger."

"Percy's always in danger. Percy _is_ danger."

"Yeah, and in a few days he's going to finish his quest and then he'll go back to that Roman camp. Jason and I talked about this — Percy _will_ be there. A quest is just confirmation that they've accepted him there." _And that they haven't murdered him yet,_ she thought, but she decided not to say that.

Sally was quiet. Then she agreed, as long as Annabeth promised to keep her regularly updated on developments.

Annabeth promised.

* * *

"Left here," Annabeth told Paul quietly. They'd miraculously made it past the red farmhouse and weather vane without any monster attacks — Annabeth would've hated to add to the pegasus hoof prints on the hood of Paul's Prius. The rain was coming down hard outside, the pattering on the roof of the car pleasant and lulling, but it did nothing to help her mood (which currently was along the lines of _irritable, frustrated, _and _utterly exhausted_). The weather also wasn't improving Paul's driving, either; the windshield wipers were whirring like crazy, blurring across the glass. The rain would part around the valley, Annabeth knew, but she felt bad for dragging Paul all the way out here in the middle of a storm on a weekend.

They were quiet. Sally was at home in bed with a migraine, but, the sweet lady she was, she had convinced her husband to drive Annabeth to Camp Half-Blood instead. During the car trip, Annabeth discovered that a) he wasn't much of a talker, and b) he was the suckiest driver she had ever had to share a car with. The Prius hurtled around every corner at ten miles an hour above the speed limit, and screeched to a halt when Paul slammed his foot down on the brakes. It was terrifying — he was even worse than Percy, who couldn't drive to save his life. Hopefully he'd never have to, and if he did, hopefully Annabeth wouldn't be there for it.

Before she knew it, they were pulling up and she was telling Paul to stop the car. She stepped out and thanked him, quietly, promising to keep in touch and to stay safe and that no, the Blofis-Jackson household really didn't have to worry about her. Honest.

She shouldered her backpack, which held a change of clothes and Daedalus's laptop. Her bronze knife was strapped to her waist. Her hair was back in an undoubtedly messy ponytail. She hoped she looked like she'd been eating and sleeping more than she had, because as soon as she stepped across the borderline to camp everyone was going to notice her and start bombarding her with questions. She didn't want them to worry about her anymore than they already were.

She stepped into camp. The rain drops stopped falling on her head.

The first person to notice her was her brother Malcolm, who let out a shout of her name.

"Annabeth!" He jogged over to her, and she could see that his gray eyes were big and bright and smiling like there wasn't a care in the world. Malcolm was Annabeth's favorite sibling — he was a year younger and had been at camp almost as long as she had, and as he took her arm she remembered what a positive force he was in her life. Even with all this Percy drama going on, she felt better just seeing her brother.

"You're back early," he noted. "What about school and stuff?"

She shrugged. "I'm skipping the last week."

He grinned again. "I bet Mom's not going to like that."

"What she doesn't know won't kill her." Annabeth glanced up at the sky, mostly out of habit; the thing about having gods for parents was that you never knew when they were listening. She doubted it, what with the Greek/Roman schism going on up there, but she wanted to be extra careful; Athena wasn't the forgiving type, and after that little episode in the subway back in New York, Annabeth was already on her mother's bad side, and she wasn't eager to make the situation worse.

Malcolm appeared not to be worried about any of this. Like Leo Valdez, he was seriously ADHD, and he was just about bouncing in his shoes as he and Annabeth began to make their way to Cabin Six.

"What's gotten you so excited?" she teased.

"Oh, man." His eyes took on a glint like a kid's in a toy store. "Leo's ship is totally _awesome,_ oh my gods. Seriously, you're going to love it."

He cast a wistful glance over his shoulder in the direction of Bunker Nine and sighed. "You're lucky you get to sail on it for your quest."

Annabeth didn't feel like going on an ultra-dangerous journey into the forbidden ancient lands counted as _lucky_ exactly, but she didn't mention this to Malcolm. Instead she focused on the bright side of being back at camp: the whiff of early summer strawberries drifting from the fields, Will Solace's archery class for the younger kids proving to be a comical disaster, the calm, smooth-as-glass canoe lake where she and Percy had kissed all those months ago. She smiled.

Immediately her heart grew heavy again. It was like Percy was a slowly-healing wound in her chest that tore open again every time she thought about him, painful and bloody and disgusting; It would never really vanish, she knew. Even if she lived long enough for the pain to numb, she would always have the scar.

The thought made her want to curl up and cry, but for Malcolm's sake she swallowed away the urge and continued towards the Athena cabin. She couldn't wait to change and dump her bag on her bunk, because as cool as it was, Daedalus's laptop was heavy, and her clothes were soaking from the rain. Then she'd go see Chiron and Piper and Jason and Leo. And, of course, the _totally awesome_ ship that should be nearly finished by now.

"Sis?" Malcolm sounded concerned. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Annabeth managed what she hoped looked like a confident smile. "Race you to Cabin Six?"

He grinned like a little kid. "You're on."

She squared her shoulders and ran.

* * *

**So yeah. I do PJO fanfic now.**

**Drop me a review? Please and thank you. Virtual hugs for all you lovely souls that do :)**

**~Mia**


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